


Just Keeping Score

by Penumbren



Series: All My Yesterdays [2]
Category: Avengers (Comic), Doctor Strange (Comics), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bitterness, Cap_Ironman Fic Exchange Challenge, Community: cap_ironman, M/M, Magic, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penumbren/pseuds/Penumbren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected visitor leads to some tense moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Keeping Score

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [stalkerbunny](http://stalkerbunny.livejournal.com/) for the 2011 [cap_ironman](http://cap_ironman.livejournal.com/) Secret Santa exchange.
> 
> Done for the following prompt: _"Before the fight with Dormammu and Strange's betrayal, Tony and Strange were in a sexual relationship, born of isolation, Stephen's bitterness and Tony's guilt and all around unhealthy. Later, Tony is in a relationship with Steve, and for some reason Strange is (forced to by circumstances) to visit earth. Super awkward meet-my-ex-times? Aforementioned need not necessarily be the *focus* of the story but would love if it happened at some point."_
> 
>  __The title is from Bon Jovi's "[What Do You Got](http://www.hotnewsonglyrics.com/bon-jovi-what-do-you-got-lyrics.html)."

Perching on the stool in front of his workbench, Tony watched through thick magnifying lenses as he soldered a circuit board together. Once the board was done, he could enchant it, but that would be for another day. Tonight, he needed to work on translating more of the tome the Avengers had discovered the previous month. Written in a mix of Latin and arcane symbology, the moldering book proved interesting, although Tony still wasn't convinced that it was a real grimoire; so far, it read more like the ravings of a madman. Still, other books in his arcane library looked the same until you knew their secret, so he determined to press on with his translation. If nothing else, it made a good distraction from other things that were on his mind lately.

He grimaced. "Other things" indeed. Other thing, maybe - something that went by the name of Steve Rogers. Over the last six months, the Avengers had melded into a good team; they worked well together, they played together, and everyone got along. Even with him, to Tony's own - unspoken - surprise. Jarvis loved it, of course. More people to feed, take care of, and cluck at when they acted too much like the children that Tony knew he thought of them all as.

The one thing Tony hadn't gotten a handle on yet was Steve. Steve Rogers, Captain America, America's only super soldier, a man out of his own time... and a man, Tony feared, who had quite neatly wormed his way into Tony's heart. He knew Steve was interested in him - that had been obvious from the start. He couldn't deny the overwhelming attraction he felt toward the man, or the fact that his own feelings had progressed well beyond "like." The thing that had him running scared was his track record. He'd never done relationships well and did casual flings even more wretchedly, especially these days. He'd spent the last several years well and truly alone, and he'd even managed to convince himself that he was happy that way. After the way his last relationship ended... His mouth twisted and he set the circuit board down, shutting off the soldering iron and tossing his lenses on the work table.

Leaning back, he glanced at the clock and sighed, stretching his arms above his head as he arched his back, working the kinks out of muscles that had been too long in one, unmoving position. It was nearly time for dinner, and the growling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't had lunch. Or breakfast, actually. Or anything since lunch yesterday, now that he thought about it. Coffee was only an acceptable substitute until he reached the point of passing out, and Tony generally preferred to avoid that occurrence at this point in his life.

Standing up, Tony brushed ineffectively at his worn jeans, noting new burns that he hadn't noticed while working. Dark smudges marred his once-white wifebeater and probably his face, and Tony decided that a shower was called for. If he showed up at dinner looking like he'd spent all day hunched over his lab table, Jarvis would give him that resigned but disapproving stare all night, and he couldn't handle that now any better than he'd been able to as a boy. Running a hand through his hair, Tony only realised after doing so that he'd just managed to rub the same grit into his hair and bit back a mumbled curse.

Shower, right now, he decided, and glanced around to make sure he hadn't left anything on that would burn the place down in his absence. Everything looked as it should, so he headed for the stairs, locking the door behind him. Not that he didn't trust his teammates, but old habits died hard, and since his lab and his magical workspace were contained in the same area, it was better to be safe. The last thing he needed was someone wandering into his sanctum and accidentally releasing a demon from one of the artifacts.

His mouth curved at that thought, wondering what Hank would do if he actually saw a demon. Tony was still smiling when he entered the main hall.

"Oh, sir! What fortuitous timing!" Jarvis exclaimed, and Tony raised an eyebrow, wondering what had the man so nervous. Jarvis never looked this worried unless something major was up, but Tony didn't see any holes in the wall that told of a visit from the Hulk, or super-villains lurking in the shadows, so what...?

"Indeed, Jarvis," drawled a familiar voice from the entryway, and Tony stopped cold in the hall. His eyes closed in an expression of pain before he caught himself, taking a deep breath and turning, seeing Jarvis' apologetic grimace from the corner of his eye. "So nice to see that your master's luck seems to hold even for the most minor things."

"Only on my good days," Tony said, hoping that his tone hid the roil of conflicting emotions his visitor had brought to the surface. From the sardonic grin on the man's face, he rather thought that it hadn't. "Stephen. How are you?"

Stephen Strange stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over Tony in a measuring glance before meeting his eyes again. "Not bad. You're looking well, I must say."

"Thanks." He didn't bother keeping the dryness from his answer. "What are you doing here? I thought you settled down in the Dark Dimension."

"Cutting right to the chase? How unlike you." Stephen paused, and Tony could see something beneath the casual veneer, something that looked like... fear. His chest tightened.

"I'm not in the mood for games, Stephen. If you came to me, you need something. What's wrong?"

Stephen's mouth twisted. "I want you to know that this wasn't my idea. Clea sent me. We... she thinks that Dormammu is returning."

***

Shower forgotten, Tony sat perched on the edge of his chair in the living room, fingers steepled as he stared sightlessly at the far wall, listening to Stephen's words.

"And when Clea checked the Mindless Ones' barrier, it was... weaker." Strange leaned back on the couch, one hand clenched into a fist, his voice tight with anger. "Only Dormammu could affect that barrier, and only he would ever dream of releasing the Mindless Ones."

"But why would he threaten it like that, knowing that Clea would be able to sense the change, and not do anything else?" The question was mostly rhetorical, and Tony frowned as he thought.  
"That doesn't make any sense. Dormammu has the power to simply banish the barrier altogether and if he wanted to, he would. But he doesn't want to destroy the Dark Dimension - he wants to rule it. Plus, last time I checked on him, he was still chasing his body through the dimensions."

"You check on him?" Strange sounded surprised and Tony shrugged.

"When I can. It's not easy, since he's shifting randomly through the planes - every so often the armour pings me when it gets somewhere it can reach me."

Strange shook his head. "You know that he'll catch up to it eventually."

"Yes." Tony waved a hand in a careless gesture and sat back. "I'll deal with that when it happens." A frown crossed his face. "That does mean it's not Dormammu affecting the barrier, though. Who else could do it?"

"From what Clea's told me, only Dormammu." Strange's frustration echoed in his voice.

Tony hummed in thought. "I'll have to do some research. The Dark Dimension isn't exactly one of my specialities."

"Wonderful," Strange said, his voice dry. "How long will that take? The barrier's getting weaker every day, Stark."

For some reason, Stephen's use of his last name bothered Tony. Narrowing his eyes, he said, "You never used to have a problem calling me Tony."

Stephen's shoulders stiffened. "Things were different then."

"Stephen--" Tony didn't know what he meant to say. He just knew that he didn't want to leave things like this. Their relationship had been all flavours of fucked up, but he didn't want this strained bitterness between them.

"Tony? Are you in here?" Steve's voice echoed down the hallway, and Tony couldn't keep the half-smile off his face. "There you are!" Steve exclaimed as he walked in. "I wanted to let you know you were right - the new enchantment on the armour did help against Cobra's new acid venom--" He cut his words off abruptly as he caught sight of Strange sitting on the couch. "Sorry - I didn't know you had a guest." He started to turn towards the door and Tony stood quickly, suddenly anxious not to be alone with Strange any longer. He didn't miss the thoughtful expression on Stephen's face as he looked between him and Steve.

"No, no. Stephen Strange is..." He fumbled for a second, uncertain how to describe their past. He settled on "...an old friend," knowing how weak it sounded. Strange's sharp laugh didn't help.

"Yes, Tony and I have... known each other for a long time," Strange said, and Tony winced at the heavy innuendo in the words.

Ignoring it for the moment, he said, "Stephen, this is Captain America - Steve Rogers."

Steve reached out, shaking Strange's hand with a guarded smile. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise." Strange glanced at Tony. "You didn't tell me you had someone living with you." Tony glared at him, wishing that Steve was still too new to this era to understand the thinly-veiled meaning of Strange's words.

"All of the Avengers live here," Steve said, not giving Tony the chance to say something he would regret. When Tony cast a sidelong glance at him, the glint of anger in Steve's eyes surprised him. A quick look at Strange showed Tony that he hadn't missed it either, and he sighed.

"I didn't exactly have a chance to update you on my life for the last few years, Stephen. It's not as though you're here for a social call."

Unwanted territorial growling averted for the moment, Tony filled Strange in on the team's history. Steve, leaning against the wall and keeping a wary eye on Strange, added, "You won't get to meet Jan or Hank. They're in England at a conference right now."

"It would have been so lovely to see Ms. Van Dyne again," Strange said, his tone reeking of insincerity. "Wasn't she at the last party we attended together, Tony? The one that led to our... lengthy relationship." He mouth twisted into a crooked smirk when Steve turned a narrow-eyed gaze on Tony.

Tony was abruptly sick of it. "Yes, she was." He rose, keeping his words terse. It had been years since he'd allowed anger to be his sole motivation, and damned if Stephen Strange was going to get past his control tonight. "If you're done sniping, I'll have Jarvis show you to a room. I have research to do, if you actually want a solution to your problem."

"Yes, since you're so good at providing those for me." Strange's smooth words did nothing to soothe the caustic tone of his voice. Tony's hands curled into fists at his sides momentarily, before he turned and rang the bell for Jarvis. Silence filled the room, thick and stifling, until Jarvis arrived to take Strange upstairs. When the door closed behind them, Tony let out a breath, feeling tension rising in his body as he waited for Steve's reaction to his visitor.

"So. An 'old friend'?" Steve asked from behind him. Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair, as he turned to face Steve. The feel of the grit in his hair reminded him of his aborted shower, and he slumped a little, feeling suddenly exhausted.

"Not my first choice of descriptions," he answered, keeping his voice even.

"Didn't look too friendly to me."

Silence rose up between them until Tony couldn't take it any more. "What do you want me to say?" he demanded. "Strange is the man whose life I ruined?" Steve looked at him, his gaze level and challenging, and didn't say anything.

"Fine!" Tony snapped, wishing for a second that he still kept alcohol in the house. A shot of whiskey hadn't sounded so good in years. Not since the crash, he thought sourly. He took another breath, forcing himself to calmness. "Fine. Stephen and I were lovers. After the crash, when I was trying to find a cure for his hands. It... wasn't a healthy relationship."

"Obviously." Steve's voice was even, not revealing his emotions, and Tony cursed to himself. He had nothing to go on, no way to know what Steve was thinking about what had to be an unexpected - and unwelcome - revelation. "So why is he here?"

"He needs my help."

Steve snorted. "Must be pretty desperate, if he hates you that much." Pushing away from the shelves, he unslung the shield from his back and crossed the room, taking his usual seat on the couch, the shield leaning against his feet.

"He is," Tony admitted sinking back into his chair. He met Steve's gaze, feeling the familiar spark as their eyes connected. Steve's mouth crooked into an expression that Tony couldn't read, a hint of frustration and some sort of... realization?

"He's the reason you won't do anything about us, isn't he?"

Tony blinked, trying to process the question, then stared at Steve, speechless.

"Dammit, Tony. We've been dancing around this - whatever you want to call it - between us for the last year. I'm tired of pretending there's nothing there when we both know there is," Steve said, voice sharp.

"I--" Tony stopped. The raw edge to Steve's words wouldn't let him lie. Biting his lip, he slumped forward, arms braced on his knees as he stared at the floor. Steve's gaze on him felt like a weight he couldn't stand up under anymore. He sighed. "Yes."

Silence wound between them, tense and expectant, and Tony found himself listening to Steve's breathing as he tried to gather his thoughts. The other man remained still, watching him, and Tony knew Steve was waiting. For him. For an explanation. For anything. He couldn't push himself past everything that the years with Stephen had taught him, but he could at least be honest with Steve. The man deserved that much.

Straightening, he drew in a breath and looked across the room. The mingled emotions on his friend's face took him by surprise. He'd expected the frustration, the hint of anger; he had no idea what to make of the concern. Anything else, he told himself, was a product of his own imagination. He rubbed a hand across his dry eyes, abruptly feeling the effects of two days without sleep. "I never told you how I became the Sorcerer Supreme."

It took Steve a minute to connect the dots. Then he leaned forward, his eyes intent. "No. And you don't have to now. That's not--"

"It is." Tony couldn't keep looking at him, seeing that expression on his face. He pushed himself to his feet, crossing the room and standing in front of the shelves, staring unseeingly at the books in front of him. "When I was younger, I was a lot like my father." He heard Steve's intake of breath behind him. It was the first time Tony had ever spoken of his father in front of Steve without the other man bringing up the subject.

"I'm a genius." He shrugged. "It runs in the family. Unfortunately, so does being an asshole and an alcoholic." He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, noting absently that they needed to be dusted. "I invented weapons. I ran the company. I partied. I drank. A lot." He had to pause. Somehow, saying all this, even just the bare bones of the story, to someone else was... difficult. Saying it to _Steve_... "Stephen was a brilliant surgeon. We met when we were at a party. We both drank too much. I drove him home, but I... I wrecked the car. Because I was drunk. He... his hands..." He could see it so clearly in his mind's eye, even through the alcoholic fog he'd been wrapped in at the time. The darkness, the shock, the pain... the look on Stephen's face. "He could never operate again. I destroyed his life."

The touch on his shoulder made him start. He'd been so wrapped up in his memories that he hadn't heard Steve stand up and cross the room. He didn't turn to meet the eyes that he knew were watching him with concern and care. Instead, he took a long breath, only realising how ragged his voice was when he spoke again. "I promised him that I would make it better, that I'd fix it somehow. I... we spent years trying. I tried science, technology... all my genius, and I couldn't fix this _one thing_."

His voice was wound tight with long-repressed emotion, and Steve's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Stephen hated it, hated me, and I couldn't help him. We ended up as lovers because neither of us had anyone else, not because we wanted to. We fought and we fucked and we stayed together because I'd _promised_ him. When I finally realised that science wouldn't work, I turned to magic. I barely even saw him, once I found the Ancient One. I looked at him every day and I never _saw_ him anymore. I got so caught up in learning that I forgot _why_ I was learning. After I became the Sorcerer Supreme, I kept trying, but... it was never a priority anymore. How could it be? One man's pain, one man's life, against an entire world's? It's no wonder Stephen ended up turning on me." His words trailed off and he closed his eyes, feeling again the shocked betrayal that had nearly overwhelmed him when he saw Stephen smirking down at him from beside Dormammu.

"Tony..." Steve's voice was low, rough, and Tony shook his head sharply.

"No. I want to tell you... I _need_ to tell you. You deserve to know." He turned, twisting out of Steve's grasp to place his back to the shelves and look at his face. "Stephen betrayed me because Dormammu did fix his hands. But when Clea told him that all Dormammu wanted was to release the Mindless Ones onto Earth, to destroy the world so that he could rule the Dark Dimension in peace... Stephen stole my armour and freed me. And I had to tell him... I had to tell him that Dormammu had lied to him. His hands weren't fixed -- they were cursed. If I hadn't removed the enchantment, it would have killed him, it would have eaten away at him until he just withered and died and I... I loved him. Even though I hated him, and I knew he hated me for everything I'd done, and not done, part of me loved him and I couldn't let that happen to him, not even after what he did."

Steve's brow was creased with concern, but Tony was captured by his eyes, not even noticing Steve moving closer until he felt the warmth of Steve's body against his. The strange intensity lighting Steve's eyes drew all of his attention. Only when Steve breathed out his name did Tony realize that Steve intended to kiss him.

He broke, turning abruptly to the side and stepping away from Steve, pretending not to see the dismay on his face. At the doorway, he stopped, not looking back - not willing to see the anger that he knew was written on Steve's face. "I have to start on that research I promised Stephen. If I can find anything, it will help when I go to the Dark Dimension."

"What? But you can't go by yourself," Steve protested, and Tony's eyes closed for an instant, wanting to pretend that the emotion he heard in Steve's voice was more than just worry for a friend or a teammate.

Forcing himself to take a breath, to open his eyes, Tony shook his head. "I can. I've done it before."

"But you didn't have the Avengers before, Tony. You're _not_ going alone." Steve had moved closer, but Tony refused to look. "If you do sneak off without me - without us - I'll find another magic user and make them get us there. I know Jarvis will know how to contact them if no one else does."

Fighting back anger again, Tony laughed, low and mirthless. "I can't imagine what good you think your shield will do against demons or magic, but when you put it like that, I guess I can't really stop you."

"Magic or not, we can at least back you up, provide cover and distraction, and make sure you come out of this alive." Steve's voice was low, urgent, and Tony finally gave in, half-turning to look over his shoulder. Steve's jaw was set with determination, and Tony let out a breath, allowing some of his tension to drain out of him with it.

"All right." When Steve stepped toward him again, Tony held up a hand. "I won't go without you - without the team - unless I have no other option. I promise you that."

A long moment passed, until Steve nodded, accepting Tony's promise for the compromise that it was. "Thank you."

Without further discussion, Tony opened the door and stepped into the hallway, pulling the heavy door shut behind him. Making sure he was alone in the hall, he allowed himself to slump back against the thick wood, his eyes closing as he covered them with a hand, rubbing his aching head. Damn Stephen, anyway. With Dormammu acting up - somehow - of course Clea would turn to him, but Stephen hadn't needed to make it so damned difficult. Tony's mouth twisted at the thought, his hand falling away from his face as he straightened. Nothing between him and Stephen had ever been easy. Why would it be any different now?

Snorting with unamused laughter at the thought, Tony headed back to the Sanctum. He pushed away thoughts of a shower, of dinner... of Steve. If Dormammu was back, everything else would have to wait.

 _fin_


End file.
